


Just Letting You Know

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [128]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27008407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: Adam found Crowley sitting slouched at a work-table, scowling at a plant he was clearly in the middle of repotting.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling/Adam Young
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [128]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 17
Kudos: 708





	Just Letting You Know

As the group of students fled the greenhouse at the end of their Botany lesson, they passed Dr Young waiting outside it. A number of them smiled at him, feeling sorry for him having to deal so much with Dr Crowley over the wedding, even to having to brave him in his lair. Dr Fell, they're almost universally agreed, must be an actual angel to love Dr Crowley so much - and to have influenced Dr Crowley to soften (just a little) in return.

Adam nodded politely in response to their smiles, waited until they were gone, and then slipped quietly into the greenhouse. He found Crowley sitting slouched at a work-table, scowling at a plant he was clearly in the middle of repotting.

"Thought you could go all pale and yellow without me noticing did you?" he snarled at it, even as his long fingers gently coaxed the old soil off the tangled rootball. "What have I told you about-"

Adam cleared his throat.

Crowley didn't pause or turn, but he did snap, "What?"

"A couple of things," Adam said, circling the table until he stood in Crowley's line of sight, fascinated by the contrast between the harshness of Crowley's face and voice, and the gentle care of his fingers and actions.

Crowley did glance up then, at least long enough to snag a larger pot and scoop compost into it. "Is it about the flowers for your wedding?"

"No, Warlock's doing the flowers themself. They said they don't want anything scared on their big day."

Crowley snorted, and the corner of his mouth twitched up in wry acknowledgement. He made a "go on" gesture.

Adam swallowed. "I wanted to apologise, if it was something I did that upset you at the weekend."

"It wasn't." Crowley eased the plant into its new home, one hand cradling it supportively while the other added soil until it could stand on its own. "No apology necessary."

Adam drew a relieved breath as old fears eased their way to the back of his heart insead of clawing their way up his throat. Fear of hurting people he cared about without realising, just because he _wanted_ something badly enough. Fear of being the cause of something massive and deadly and vicious without ever knowing it until almost too late. Fear of doing what he thought was the best thing and it turning out to be the worst thing he could have come up with. He swallowed again, pushing them further down and summoned a smile. "Good to know."

"Yeah, well, sorry you got caught in it," Crowley mumbled. "Usually manage to keep that kind of thing to ourselves."

"It's ok."

Crowley gave him a scowl that matched the one he'd given the plant. "If it was ok, you wouldn't be thinking you had to apologise for it. Angel and I... touched off some raw spots on each other. It happens. We made up after. Now, you said you had a couple of things. That's only one of them. What's the other?"

"Oh." Adam grinned and the tension eased out of his shoulders. "Just wanted to tell you - Warlock and I - we're spending Christmas with my family. Thought you'd want to know."

"Appreciated." Crowley set the repotted plant aside and picked dirt from under his nails. "Be gentle with them, ok? Warlock's had some pretty rough Christmases, I understand, might all be a bit much sometimes."

"Yeah," Adam said, "I know. I'll look after them for you."

Crowley rolled his head in lieu of his eyes. "I don't own them. And they're nobody's trophy, to be displayed to all and sundry. Not any more."

"Yeah," Adam repeated. "I know."

Crowley snorted softly. "Of course you do," he said, his sarcasm slipping to reveal the contrasting fondness behind it. He pointed to the partial sack of compost. "Drag that over to join the other sacks would you?"

Adam took that request as the intended apology and acceptance it was and bent to oblige.


End file.
